Demons
by Nikki Noname
Summary: There is a darkness within us all, it dwells deep in our twisted minds and whispers to our desires. Loki/OC
1. Chapter 1

**Hi.**

**This is a Loki/OC ****fanfiction. I'll try to update when I can but honestly I'm a lazy writer, so don't expect too much ;)**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

Elske could sense his mischief from miles away; it flooded her mind and enveloped her nerves in the warm feeling of familiarity, preparing her for whatever was about to happen. She felt her pulse quicken as his magic seeped into her pores… Loki had never been the God of Subtlety.

Three years earlier, the cards had not been in Elske's favour. She had offered her life up for the sake of the one she loved, and instead of the merciful death she had expected, she was banished to the ends of the universe, alone and lost. It had been a shock, Odin shoving her off the rainbow bridge; his eyes alight with fury as she tried to grasp his hands to stop from falling through the realms. She had smashed into the ground of Midgard, panting and pained, completely disorientated, utterly deserted. It had seemed as if everything was moving in slow motion, but yet, at the same time, Elske felt that time was passing too quickly. She was on her back, gasping, as a crowd surrounded her, stealing her light and suffocating her. Elske was alert and terrified, and within her the power grew, and when a man placed a large hand on her shoulder, her fear exploded.

Magic was something that Elske was usually very good at, on Asgard she could create the finest illusions on a whim, and more often than not, applied her powers so she could amuse her best friend. She would watch as his stormy eyes lit up at her small pranks, heart-breaking smirk on his lips as he laughed silently. It would physically hurt Elske to witness Loki's sadness and boyish confusion, the way his brows would furrow with pain when Odin ignored him, the way his shoulders would slump at the mere mention of Thor, how he'd clench his jaw every now and then, rejection leaking into his expression. Elske would do anything to keep Loki happy, for after all, she did owe him her life.

It had been chilly the day Elske tried to kill herself, it was one of those afternoons where the sun refused to show its face, leaving Asgard and Elske's heart shrouded in darkness.

"I'm truly sorry," Alia, the woman who employed Elske, had said with no sorrow at all. "But Erik and I will no longer be needing your services."

"Why?" Elske's voice was panicked, an octave higher than her usual tone.

"It's end of crop season, there is no more need for you."

"I have many talents," She said quickly, trying not to submit to the agonizing feeling of worthlessness that was welling within her. "I could aid you in a different area-"

"Elske," Alia's voice was stern as she pointed to the door. "Erik and I would ask that you leave now."

Hunger was not a sensation Aesir tended to feel often, but for Elske, it was a common nuisance. Her life was in the balance, living on the very worst streets of Asgard, she was often beaten and taken advantage of, and without the small income that working for Alia and Erik provided, she would surely rot. She had not lived a life of love or happiness, only ever witnessing cruelty and pain, and though she had not made it into adulthood, Elske knew her time was up.

She had been dancing with the suicidal thoughts for an age, a dangerous waltz that clung to her and filled her heart with despair. Life was for the living, and as it was, Elske barely existed.

* * *

Swimming into the scenic lake had been hard, the sobs that caught in her throat made it more difficult for Elske to get to the deepest area, but she reached it in time. Her breath came in heavy gasps before she dunked her pretty head below the water, never intending to resurface, and it wasn't long before her lungs burned and filled with liquid, arms flailing as her body fought, her mind swirling with loss as she prepared for eternal sleep.

Her sleep was short.

Elske's hazel eyes flew open as a fist slammed down on her chest and hot air rushed down her throat. She made a strange keening noise before throwing up a rather impressive amount of water, making the stranger laugh in weary relief.

"Thank Valhalla you're awake," He breathed, a tired smile lighting up his beautiful features. "You scared me."

Elske drew in a painful breath, stars obscuring her vision briefly.

"I need to-" She began to speak, but the dry agony that exploded in her throat stopped her mid sentence.

"I suggest you avoid talking for a few days," He advised quickly, his lulling voice full of concern. Elske shook her head and prepared herself for another wave of discomfort.

"I need to get back in the lake," Tears sprung to her eyes and though her voice was barely audible, the demand was clear.

"I'm sorry?"

Elske pointed to the water, not daring to make another noise, but gestured wildly in her desperation.

"I don't understand," The stranger said, sounding lost and nervous, his hand running through the raven-black locks. Elske grit her teeth and looked straight into his myrtle green eyes,

"Put me back in the water," She rasped in a voice so distressed it made the young man shiver. "Please."

"No," He shook his head roughly as he realized the weight of the situation. "I will not."

She tried to speak again, but her voice failed her and her chest throbbed. Thick tears fell down her cheeks and she pointed again to the lake.

The man's dark emerald eyes were filled with pain and bewilderment, and as droplets of water fell from his wet hair, Elske imagined that he was crying.

He continued to stare at her, his long, pale column of a throat showing his hammering pulse. Elske reached down and weakly took hold of his hand, begging the gorgeous stranger to understand and to let her go.

"Please," Her voice didn't even carry sound; her lips barely formed the word.

It was obvious that she was younger than him, not by much, but it was enough to make his heart burn. He couldn't even comprehend the thought of suicide, and here was his junior, a lovely girl who had tried to commit the act.

"Everything is all right," He said softly, though the words were spoken more to himself than the sweet girl on the grass next to him. "Everything will be fine."

She closed her eyelids, heavy as lead, and gestured to the water in a tired movement.

_Please._

"I will not," He repeated, his voice just as broken. He swallowed when the girl's eyes remained closed. "I can help you, I can get the healers and they can help you – but you need to stay awake."

The handsome man turned, positioning himself at a less awkward angle, and then shook her.

Elske moaned and her almost translucent lids fluttered open slightly,

_Please, _She tried to tell him. _I'm tired._

"Hey," He said, louder this time, assuming that he should keep her lucid. "Hey! Stay awake!"

Light hazel met forest green and Elske smiled slightly, thinking that the man looked nothing short of angelic. Maybe he had taken her out of the lake so he could to bring her to Valhalla? As she looked more upon his beauty, she decided she'd follow him to Hel, too.

Her lips moved again, twitching in their exhausted effort to make words, to tell the man with such sorrowful eyes,

_I'm ready to die, do not mourn for me._

Her mind met darkness as her eyes closed again, unable to remain open; she had no will left within her, and against his pleading and vehement protests, Elske surrendered to it.

* * *

She opened her eyes and saw a marbled ceiling, the creamy stone shone as if it had just been polished and Elske was immediately on high alert. She had never seen such a regal looking interior, the room even smelt of luxury. Her gaze moved from the elegant roofing to in front of her, where the stunning man from before stood, watching.

"It's good to see you awake," He sighed, sounding genuinely relieved as he regarded her. "How do you feel?"

She stared at him, feeling both betrayed and frightened that he had saved her. She had no way to repay him if that was what he wanted; she had nothing at all. Her eyes went wide with fear and suspicion, but when she spoke, she forced her silken voice to be steady,

"Where am I?"

The man froze slightly at the sound of her, the softness of her tone taking him by surprise. So different from the hoarse whisper she'd talked in before, the hushed words reminded him of dripping honey or a trickling stream, musical in their delicate beauty. Never in his life had he heard such tender sounding words, a simple question that caressed his ears and made him shiver,

"The healers," His voice was not as firm as he intended. "You needed medical attention."

Her face paled, dry lips pressing together as she realized the predicament,

"I can't repay you… I have nothing - this place, I cannot afford it."

He was surprised at her obvious shame,

"This will come at no cost to you," He assured her, looking at his pale hands to divert his thoughts from the girl's pretty face and lulling tone. "You need not worry."

That made her fret even more.

"What do you want from me?" She felt her chest constrict as horrid memories flashed behind her eyes. Surely the angelic man wouldn't be a monster like the other men she had known?

_All men are monsters._

"Nothing," He said uneasily, her distress making him just as nervous. "Just rest yourself and let your body recuperate."

"But what do you want from me?" She asked again, the strength in her velvet voice being replaced by barely veiled anxiety. "How will I repay you?"

Clenching his jaw, the gorgeous man couldn't help but feel offended. The girl treated him like he was some sort of persecutor, as if he had saved her life just to make her pay.

"I did what any man would have done and pulled you from that lake." His gaze flashed from his clasped hands to the girl's face quickly before darting away again. "You are far too young to die."

There was a beat of heavy silence before she spoke, her eyes welling with tears of confusion.

"I do not feel young," She allowed a shaky breath to pass through her dry lips. "In all honesty I feel as though I've lived forever."

They were cloaked in silence for a short while again, both staring intently at nothing, minds racing. It was the man who spoke this time,

"You intended to drown, did you not?"

Her small sigh confirmed his assumptions. "Have you no family to miss you? No friends to worry?"

She bit her tongue and shook her head,

"I have no one."

He rubbed his hands roughly over his face, clenching his teeth momentarily before speaking again,

"Where do you live?"

"Wherever I can find shelter."

His head snapped up, surprised and instantly wary.

"Then you are homeless?"

She almost smiled at this, the sadness that was so evident in his tone at her pathetic life. The confusion of the privileged man nearly amused her. But not quite.

Because it was her life that caused him to look so repelled.

"I have always been too proud to admit it, but I suppose I am." She let her stare wander around the room, still cautious. "Though I do prefer the term nomad."

He let out a harsh laugh; it was sharp and cut through the quiet room like a serrated knife. Was she joking?

"And how long have you lived this nomadic lifestyle?" He asked, concern and anger melding together painfully in his stomach.

How could such a lovely creature be forced to live out in the cold?

"Forever," She admitted, confused at his expression and tone, because if she was not mistaken, the gorgeous man looked saddened, concerned almost.

"I can help you," He said quickly, the words out of his mouth before he had even thought them through, his strange fascination with the tiny brunette causing him to act irrationally. "I can give you a place to stay."

She pretended that she hadn't heard and instead admired the mural, ignoring his declaration completely.

_All men are evil._

"How did we get here?"

He knew she was disregarding his previous statement, and was about to press it until he realized that she was shaking.

So overwhelmed, it was probably better to steer clear of that topic for a time, and in his concern, he humoured her.

"Horse back, I found you whilst riding… I hope you weren't jostled in the journey?"

Elske lifted a trembling, creamy hand and rubbed her eyes; glad he hadn't pushed the issue further.

"I didn't even notice you had a horse with you – I was rather distracted."

"Yes," He muttered, his thoughts blurring together as he remembered how she had looked; dead, floating head-down in the crystal lake, pale and unmoving. "I expect you were."

He watched her intently, not understanding the ache in his chest or the interest that had suddenly manifested itself in the mysterious maiden before him. She was strange, and worrying, and completely reckless.

She was beautiful.

"Eir, the head healer, she made sure you were all right," As he spoke Elske stared at the strange bottles on the wall, filled with unusual and colourful liquids, avoiding his hypnotic gaze, the piercing emeralds that watched her. "She said you have broken bones, that you were bleeding internally… these are not the affects of poor swimming skills."

"No, I suppose not."

He dragged a hand roughly through his hair,

"How did you sustain these injuries?"

Elske pursed her lips, considering what she should tell. She decided that secrets were her best bet,

"Certain events led to them."

"Certain events?" He scoffed, angry at her blasé demeanour. Angry that she was so untrusting even though he had saved her life and angry that she was hurt at all. "The bleeding would have killed you! Had I not found you in that lake, you would be dead as we speak!"

Beneath her petal lips, Elske held back a whimper, frightened at his rising tone and devastated at the circumstances. In her attempt to end her life, she had unknowingly saved it. She breathed deeply through her nose, trying to quash the feeling of betrayal that had flowered within her.

"Well then," She sighed unsteadily, distracting herself from her own volatile emotions. Whatever powers dictated her fate were cruel and mocking, and her voice didn't hide her deep and daunting misery. "I best know the name of my saviour. Who are you?"

The man with amazing bone structure and soulful eyes frowned, noticing her quick change in tone, the drastic switch subject, but conceded none the less,

"I'm Loki."

"Loki," Elske repeated, and though the word was sad as it fell from her tongue, the young prince thought he had never heard anything so sweet.

"And what may I call you?" He asked, becoming eager to know the mysterious girl's name.

"Elske."

It was Loki's turn to reiterate the title, making Elske smile slightly as he mirrored her.

Just as he was about to ask another question Eir appeared, bringing with her a small cloth and a thin bottle,

"Ah, hello dear. It's good to see those eyes open, how do you fare?"

Elske appraised the woman with a wary expression, unsure if the truth was strictly necessary.

"Fine, thank you."

"Don't lie to me," The woman scolded and Elske felt her heart clench with fear at the woman's stern manner. Elske had never been hit by a lady, but there were firsts for everything, were there not?

"I feel better than I have in years," Elske said honestly, eyes wide and full of obvious anxiety. Loki's lips bowed into a frown while Eir remained unconvinced,

"Really? Your current injuries seem less than pleasant," The woman goaded, and Elske swallowed, nervous of her unyielding voice.

"I've had much worse," She replied quietly, eyes flickering to Loki briefly, ashamed.

The large and impressive room suddenly felt very small.

"Who is your guardian?"

Elske's pale face went a lighter shade of white at the question,

"I am an orphan… I've always been my own guardian."

"An abandoned child?" Eir frowned. "Why were you not in an orphanage or house of care?"

Elske's lips pulled back in shame,

"Well," Her voice was tight with humility. "As you said, I was discarded as a babe. I do not think they had my best intentions in mind."

Eir crossed her strong arms tightly across her chest and looked towards the man who stood protectively by the girl's bed, her eyes on the marks of Elske's arms.

Round and purple indents.

Like teeth.

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave us now, Prince Loki."

Loki opened his mouth to protest the same moment that Elske's mouth dropped open in shock.

"_Prince?_"

Eir looked between the two in dark amusement, a small smirk perched on her lips,

"You didn't know?"

"No." She whispered, eyes like saucers.

"Why did you think you were at the palace?"

"Palace?" Elske looked at Loki in bewilderment, "Why would you take me to the palace?"

The prince's slender fingers ran through his dark and ruffled locks,

"You looked half dead – no, three-quarters dead," He muttered, grabbing a fistful of hair. "And then you fainted, we were both wet and cold and I was scared you were not going to wake up."

Elske still hadn't closed her mouth,

"You are a prince?"

"Yes."

She sighed, leaning back in the bed, completely resigned to the evil creatures that controlled her life.

"Saved by a prince on his noble steed," She muttered to herself, closing her large hazel eyes in submission. "My life has become so ridiculously tiring lately."

"I aim to please," He scowled, affronted by the strange girls rudeness.

Realising her mistake, she looked up at him, wide eyed.

"My apologies, I am just… there is a strong fatigue that follows me." Her voice quaked with deep regret.

"Then rest," He sighed, moving from the foot of her bed to the side. "I promise you will be safe here."

She slit her eyes in suspicion and regarded his concerned expression confusedly. In all her life, no one had ever looked at her like this; no one had shown her such kindness and then offered more.

"People like me do not belong here," She mumbled, casting her gaze to the floor. "I don't deserve the charity you've shown me."

"Nonsense."

"Yes, sense," She disagreed, surprising him and the healer, who stood, forgotten in the corner of the room. "You don't understand."

"Maybe not," He allowed, "But I can't have you running about trying to drown yourself."

"I'd use a more effective method next time," She promised sarcastically, but as she said those words, she sealed her fate.

"You are not leaving here if that is your intent," Loki snapped, fists clenching at how naïve the beauty before him was. "You treat your life with no respect."

They shared a heated glare, a burning sorrow that connected them fleetingly. Elske broke the intensity by turning her gaze to the intricate painting that stood behind Eir,

"I do apologize, my prince, for any inconveniences I may have caused you, and for my manner of speaking-"

"Elske-" He tried to interrupt, but she remained steadfast.

"Which I am sure," She continued, "are both disrespectful and unacceptable." She ignored his indignant huff, "I will leave as soon as the healer permits it."

"I am offering you shelter and a future," He cried, not comprehending her willingness to end her existence. "You cannot just give up!"

Eir looked upon the prince with a new sense of pride, admiring his compassion for her patient, for his good intentions.

"You two should speak later," Eir said, stopping the disagreement from escalating. "But I must ask that I speak with my patient – Elske, is it? Alone."

Loki gave them both an impassioned stare before turning on his heel and storming out the large and pristine room.

Eir laughed softly at his exit, shaking her head fondly as she approached Elske,

"I think he likes you."

The girl let out a startled laugh.

And then she frowned.

Elske screwed up her nose, uncomfortable.

"A man of his stature would never like someone like me."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Eir told her, dabbing some cream onto a thin cloth. "Magic is a solitary sort of life, and Prince Loki will most likely feel a connection to you because of it."

Elske raised an annoyed brow,

"Because I have no family?"

"No," The healer replied, pressing the damp cloth to a cut she didn't know she had. Elske hissed lowly at the stinging sensation, and Eir soothed her by running a gentle hand through her hair. "He can sense the same power in you, just as I can."

The stinging was forgotten,

"Sense it?"

"There is a lightness around you," Eir frowned. "It is not easy to explain, but those who practice magic can feel it in others."

Elske bit her lip, recalling the few occasions where, in her fear, she had burned her attackers with her bear hands.

"And he could sense it in me?"

"Yes. As can I, and a strong aura at that."

Elske swallowed, unsure if she should confide in this lady, and again let her gaze drift about the room.

"There have been times," Elske began, feeling awkward and out of her depth. "That things have happened… where I have shocked people."

The healer hummed quietly, unfolding a bandage.

"Did you feel threatened or scared?" She asked, pulling down the thin blanket that hid Elske's tiny body. "Strong emotions can lead to outbursts of power."

Elske nodded gravely, remembering the rough hands and harsh blows she had experienced, how she had been stricken by those awful, awful men, how they had pushed her down and climbed above her-

"Yes, I was afraid."

"Many people do not understand magic, they do not embrace it warmly," Eir spoke quietly, trying to ease the young girl's discomfort. "Loki was never received with kindness by children his age because of his talents," Eir smirked to herself. "Or his tricks." She looked approvingly at the girl's fading bruises and reset bones. "He is lonely, I think, and he sees himself in you."

"That is maybe too perceptive," Elske smiled, warming to the woman. "I have had but two conversations with him, he has known me less than a day."

"It does not take years for someone to bond with another, it can take seconds if the connection is great enough."

Elske wanted to roll her eyes at the healer,

"He is a prince."

"I know," Eir quipped, lifting the girl's chin and examining her slender throat. "But he is the Prince that swam into a lake to save a stranger, who resuscitated a dying girl and then brought her all the way to his home to assure she was well," Eir turned and reached for a small vile of pink fluid. "And he is the prince that stood by your bedside for seven hours, waiting for you to awake - drink this please."

"Seven hours?" Elske had no idea it had been so long.

"Yes, now please, this with soothe your throat."

Elske cringed at the taste and at the guilt that now sat in her stomach,

"I have been nothing but ungrateful to him."

"You are not accustomed to pleasantries, it is understandable."

"He saved my life," Elske disagreed. "I may not have wanted that, but he did go out of his way to protect me."

Eir nodded, lips pursed,

"You tried to kill yourself?"

"I did."

Eir tucked a stray piece of golden hair behind her ears, trying to carefully word her next question,

"There are bite marks on your upper arms and thighs," Eir stated, looking sorry. "I must ask… were you… are they from a lover?"

Revulsion flashed on Elske's face.

_All men are monsters._

"No," She grit out, eyes flashing with hate, sparkling with tears.

"Oh," Eir deflated, watching the girl with pity. "Did anyone abuse you before Prince Loki found you?"

Elske glared at the wall, her heart feeling heavy in her chest.

"Why does that matter?" Her voice was hard.

"I need to know," Eir repeated. "If so, then this man will need to face the law, they need to be thrown away into the dungeons or face a thousand lashings. Aesir law does not tolerate such disgrace and vile behaviour."

"Will I be punished, too?"

Eir looked at her, startled.

"No dear, the man who hurt and violated you will be punished. You have done nothing wrong."

Elske laughed in miserable disbelief,

"Then why choose me? If I had done nothing wrong, why prey on me?"

Eir slowly reached for Elske's hand, cradling it between both of her own as if it were a delicate bird. She snatched back her hand as though she had been burnt, silver tears pooling in her hazel eyes again and she sniffed,

"There is evil in this world that I cannot even pretend to understand. But if this man hurt you, then he must be punished."

"Why?"

"Because you deserve justice."

The pauper girl looked startled, and her brows knit together in unbridled perplexity.

She didn't matter, she didn't deserve so much as the time of day. She was nobody, she was nothing.

And she had the scars to prove it.

"I don't understand," She whispered, her throat feeling as thin as parchment, her heart as fragile as porcelain.

Eir looked at the girl uneasily, her fingers knotting together as she discovered the reason behind the thin girl's actions. The way she did not comprehend that she was the victim, that her mind was plagued with loathing, thick with a fog of guilt. She had seen it before, when the vulnerable blamed themselves, when they could not understand that they were not at fault.

"You deserve justice," The healer repeated.

Dew drops rolled down pale and sallow cheeks, though Elske cried silently. She could cope with pain and fear, but the amount of care that had been she had been shown caused a new type of anguish to twist in her chest. How desperately she'd crave for affection now that she knew it. Elske had never known kind words or soft caresses, but now that Eir had held her hand and soothed her wounds, Elske felt frantic for an embrace, desperate for reassurance.

She did not move. Her voice barely carried sound.

"They hurt me."

Eir closed her eyes, her chest constricting at the girl's agony.

"Did they touch you?"

Calloused hands flashed behind Elske's vision, blood and violence and tears that were long repressed and forgotten.

_All men are fiends._

She pictured her childhood self, screaming for help, unheard. Her torn dress stained with blood and cruelty, her shaking body beaten and cut. Her young flesh so weak and breakable, her small mind so terribly scared. No mother to hold her hand, no father to banish the darkness. The blood had stained her hair black, the agony like a hot poker, scorching and burning.

No one to save her. She was not worth the time.

"Yes."

"Elske," Eir sighed, hating that she had to ask outright, hating that she already knew the answer. "Did he rape you?"

Memories of blood and struggle and hot breath panting in her ear tormented her.

Was it rape? When she was tiny and alone on the streets, when she was innocent? It had been her fault, she knew. She could feel it, if she had just run faster, had prayed harder, had hidden better… Was it rape when it was her fault?

"I don't know."

Eir tried and failed to hide the look of sorrow that warped her features.

"Did you want it to happen?"

"No!" She gasped, outraged. Who would welcome such pain, such awful, dreadful torment? The very thought made her stomach churn, her vision blur.

Eir looked upset, though not surprised.

"It was not your fault," She said, reading the young girl's thoughts as though she had heard them.

_Lies. Lies. Lies._

The healer bit her lip, released it, then bit it again. Words did not flow easily. "When did this happen?"

Elske raised her crying eyes to the worried lady and shrugged painfully. She was so exposed, as if her garnets had been torn straight off her body, her sensitive skin rubbed raw with thorns and bee stings.

Her heart begged her to make it all stop.

"Once a month," Elske's voice was but a whimper, a brittle thing that quivered in the air. "It depended on where I could find shelter…if I could find shelter."

Eir felt her blood run cold,

"This happened more than once?"

Elske nodded, teary and exhausted. She hated the palace and the prince and the healer and how weak she had become, spilling her secrets like a child, desperate for attention.

She was nobody.

"Do you think that you would be able to identify them?"

"I don't want to see them again," Elske whispered, shaking her head. "Please don't make me see them again."

Her heart felt as though it was failing. Her lungs seemed to stop working. Perhaps she would die after all.

"Elske, you need to calm down," Eir said, noticing the hammering pulse in the girls throat, "Take a deep breath, all right?"

Nothing was all right. Nothing had ever been all right. Oh Gods she was vile, she was worthless and evil and it was all her fault.

She was nobody.

"I cannot see them again," Elske sobbed brokenly, unable to stop the crystal tears. In the light of the softly setting sun they looked like diamonds. "I cannot see them again."

"Alright," Eir hushed her, "You need to calm down. You do not have to see them again, but I need you to take a deep breath, all right?"

Elske let out another sob, the sound coming from deep within her chest.

Outside the room, Loki stood, listening with a broken heart as the pretty girl cried. As she shook from unimaginable pain, embarrassment and shame. He knew Eir would be nothing short of furious if he entered now, but his need to comfort the fragile girl was overwhelming.

What in the name of Hel had she been through?

"Prince Loki-" Eir protested as he stalked back into the room, taking in Elske's tearful form with dismay. He held his hand up to the healer and signalled for her to leave them, approaching the girl at a slower pace, trying to convey his intent. Eir exhaled loudly but did as she was told, knowing that Loki had a way with words and that if anyone was to calm the girl down, it would be him.

_All men are beasts._

"Elske," He whispered, reaching out gingerly to comfort her, wincing when she flinched violently away. "You need to calm down, okay?"

She nodded but remained on edge, shivering and weeping.

"I am sorry," Her voice was broken. "I do not mean to cry."

Loki's throat felt thick at her display of suffering,

"You need not apologize," He told her soothingly, reaching out again to offer consolation. "You are safe now."

Safe was not something Elske could identify with, but the very thought of it had her crying again, in disbelief, in regret, in remorse for all the wrong doings she had be subjected to. That she had committed.

"This kindness is not real," She told him softly, brokenly. Her eyes red rimmed and mouth dry. "I do not deserve it."

"I know falsehoods better than most, and what you have just said is one of them." He said, voice soft and alien. His fist clenched, a phantom pain blooming from where she had rejected his touch. " I must ask a favour from you."

Elske's stomach churned, favours meant pain and filthiness. Favours meant bruises and searing scars.

"I cannot,"She croaked, dread seeping into her voice.

"I saved your life," He reminded her gently, not wishing to appear threatening, as a danger. "Though I realize you do not wish to live, I can give you a second chance."

She stared at him, uncomprehending. Her brain screamed memories of violence and disgrace.

"You are in my debt, and all I ask is for you to take my offer."

She looked at the beautiful man, not understanding his compassion, loathing that she wished to hear more. To listen to his words again.

She was nobody.

"I can offer you security, a place to stay. I can teach you magic-"

"I cannot repay you, your highness," She said sadly, lowering her gaze from his beautiful myrtle eyes.

"This is my payment," He assured her. "For you to find some semblance of happiness- that would be a reward."

She shook her head, letting out a pitiful, sad sort of laugh, for this could not be true.

"I wish all men were like you," She sighed and felt her heart stutter when he gave her a small smile in return. "But I do not belong in a place such as this."

"In the healing chambers? Perhaps not. But you will find that you are welcomed here, and with kindness comes acceptance."

He knew this could not be easy for her, and tried in vain to see it from her perspective, tried to imagine the horrors of her life and then the abrupt change of consideration. Was she suspicious of him, not understanding that he wanted nothing in return but her own contentment?

He thought it likely.

"What if I gave you a job?" He thought aloud. "Many of the servants have quarters in the palace."

Elske looked at Eir, the woman who owned skin without burns or scars, who looked so saddened by Elske's life, her pain. She had worked in the palace for a time, that much was obvious, and the thought that she had not been harmed in the years of her service brought a warmness to her chest. She, the nobody, the ghost who did not matter, was being looked upon with clear eyes. Eyes that saw her and did not look away, repulsed. Eyes that lingered and shone with hope.

Elske thought that it was the most precious moment of her life,

"I could work for my keep?" She asked, unsure. It was too good to be true, and yet, she knew that it was not a lie. Or at least, she hoped.

"You'd receive payment, too, of course," The Prince confirmed, relieved to see a small light in her eyes. Barely there, the most fragile ember.

But there all the same.

"You are too kind to me," She said again, searching deep within his gaze, praying that he was honest in his intentions.

In his gorgeous eyes she saw only truth.

"Please," He beseeched her, momentarily tempted to take her hand, but recalling how she had recoiled before. "Allow yourself to live."

The moment she offered a hesitant nod of acceptance was the moment their fates were intertwined forever.


	2. Chapter 2

**A big thank you to Avoline Malfoy for the lovely review, it means a lot to me :)**

**Anyway, here is the second chapter... I hope you enjoy**

* * *

It took three days for Elske to be discharged from Eir's care. Loki had spent the majority of that time in the healing chambers with her, prattling on about random occurrences and unrelated things, anything to keep her sadness at bay. She did not trust him, his chiselled face or smooth voice, but a warmness swelled in her stomach when he smiled at her, when he talked.

She did not trust him, but she could not deny a small fondness.

He asked her questions, but she tentatively asked him more, interested in his way of life, in magic, the love he had always known.

"And she hugs you?" She wondered, eyes dancing at the thought. How long had it been since someone had held her? Had they ever? The thought of a mother's affection sent shivers down her spine and a dull ache to her pulsing heart.

"Not so much anymore," He told her, leaning forward in his chair by her bedside. "As a child my mother was always embracing me, but now it is embarrassing."

She looked at him, perplexed and ever so slightly angry. What she wouldn't give to be loved.

"Why would love be embarrassing?"

He shook his head,

"It's not really," He tried to explain. "But being coddled is not exactly manly."

Elske smiled at him, though it was strained.

"I'm so jealous of you," She said, her tone held no bitterness, only longing. "To be loved and to know it… to have the privilege of hugs! You are a lucky man, Prince Loki."

"Just Loki," He corrected her with a smile. There was no point in titles, they only ever got in the way and left doubt. He wanted Elske to be comfortable, to know that she was welcome, and the implication of inequality would not aid that cause.

In his mind, they were equals, if she was just Elske, he would be just Loki.

"Why?"

"I do not need the title." He told her softly, ignoring the urge to take her small hand in his own. To hold it and offer her warmth, to wipe the icy fears from her skin.

"All right, Just Loki," She teased, turning slightly in her bed so that she could face him better. "What about your father?"

"He is a good king."

Elske frowned,

"Is that all? You spoke for an age about the queen, yet you fall silent now," She showed genuine curiosity and a glimmer of worry appeared in her gaze.

_All men are evil._

She did not know if she truly believed that, the way Loki looked at her was enough to counter that statement. But perhaps his father was less warm-hearted, perhaps Loki was the only accept ion to that rule.

Fear shot through her as she looked at the prince, and thought maybe the king had hurt him.

_Not you, too._

"My father is a good man," Loki said, sitting upright and rigid. "He just doesn't show the same affections that my mother does."

The girl sensed a darkness, but he spoke without panic or fright, and though the issue seemed to give him pain, she did not think it was anything physical. Just a lack of admiration, a loss of respect. She changed subjects quickly, not wanting anything to mar the good mood, spitting out a random and unrelated question without finesse.

"When is your birthday?" She inquired hurriedly, feeling ridiculous for her abrupt and obvious shift in discussion. Looking intently at his chiseled face, appreciating the flawless bone structure of the prince before her, she hoped he would not be angry at her awful conversation skills. Loki grinned,

"The dead of winter," He smiled, "When the snow is unrelenting and the skies are grey."

"You like winter?" For some reason this didn't surprise her, it seemed fitting somehow. His skin had the delicate beauty of fallen snow, his hair dark as sunless skies, and she sensed that, like a chilled storm, he was much more threatening than he appeared.

"It's my favorite season," He told her, feeling almost awkward. No one ever enjoyed the frozen days of Asgard, and it made his father especially angry whenever he mentioned his fondness of sharp, howling winds and ice. Like whatever Loki said was naturally wrong and unheard of. He hoped the pretty girl, with her crazy teak hair and chapped lips would not show him the same scorn."And you?"

"Winter is beautiful," She assured him, sensing his strange need of acknowledgement. Of acceptance. "But I prefer the months when I am not freezing to death in the cold."

She did not hide her dislike of the biting months, but she did not mock him either. Loki pursed his lips, remembering that she would have battled bleak and stinging cold without respite, sorry to have reminded her of the intense hardships she had lived through.

"You never have to be cold again," He promised her with quietly, searching her dreamy, gentle eyes. "The palace remains warm all throughout the year."

She smiled at him, though the expression appeared more forlorn than anything. As if she wanted so desperately to believe him, but was too tainted by the doubt that had been ingrained into her mind.

"I feel as though I have stepped straight into one of my childhood dreams," She muttered, her lungs shivering as she let out a breath, trying to keep the tears from falling. "You have offered me shelter, warmth, kindness… it all seems so unreal to me."

His heart tugged and cracked within his chest, the bitterness that dwelled there ebbing, making room for the compassion that Elske wrought upon him.

Being around her made Loki feel ungrateful for a lot of things, the way she became entranced when he spoke of good food and a safe place to rest, even hot water had her laughing, amazed at the luxury.

He felt spoiled and guilty as he listened to her talk about her fondest memories. He felt awful and shallow for ever complaining, and he desperately wanted to prove to her that he had depth and intensity, that he was more than some thankless, spoon-fed prince.

"Another girl, one I knew fairly well, she stole a pastry from a market stall once," Elske flushed pink at Loki's piercing expression, and his lips quirked up slightly in response. "Well, it was the most divine thing in the world. Not too sweet, with a light filling, the only time I've ever had something like that."

"She stole it and then just gave it to you?"

"Oh, no. I got to have half because I had given her my shoes the week before. I was worried she would cut her foot again, working in the barn."

Loki looked at her in amazement, admiration warring with pity as he realised her pure and giving nature.

"You are quite the selfless little thing, aren't you?"

Elske smirked and shook her head,

"No, I only did what anyone else would have done in my position."

The prince rolled his mossy eyes,

"I do not believe many people would give away their only pair of footwear for the sake of another… I bet you hurt your feet, did you not?"

Elske laughed sharply, remembering how she had hobbled around like a fool for months,

"Yes, but I did get to eat that pastry because of it."

He could not believe her dismissive attitude, her strange way of thinking. She was so unlike the faceless, social climbers that milled around the court, so opposite to anyone he had ever laid eyes on.

"So it was worth it?"

"Of course!" She grinned, warming his heart as well as breaking it. It was lovely to see her smile, but it made him ache to know how truly unfortunate she had been.

Such a poor, dainty thing.

Loki looked her over, intently. She was wearing a white long sleeved tunic that was easily three sizes too big, her strange brown hair fell in messy curls around her face, the shadows under her eyes seemed even darker than the day before, and immediately he worried.

"How have you been sleeping?" Loki's concern was palpable, his forehead creased as he became nervous over the delicate brunette in front of him.

"I'm fine," She told him, caught off guard by his doleful gaze. No one had ever looked at her with such care.

She was nobody.

"You look tired," He insisted, "I'm sure Eir would give you something-"

"Loki," She breathed, not entirely sure why he was looking at her so intently. "Don't waste time fretting over such small things, I will sleep when my mind permits it, but for now I am content enough to be awake."

Her words did nothing to calm his anxiety, his steely stare lingered on the dark circles that hung under her eyes. What if she fell ill? What if she never healed properly?

"How will you recover if you are not resting?" He demanded, surprising himself. Where had this crushing concern come from? Where was his usual, indifferent demeanour?

"I am resting," She argued softly, feeling awkward under his watch. "I have been bed bound for nearly two days now."

Loki was not placated by her words. She was intriguing, like an ancient spell, and he had not figured her out yet.

"I don't like it," He muttered, not bothering to be discreet about his disapproval.

"Eir says that I am healing perfectly," Elske reminded him, knowing that he had been eavesdropping on her conversation with the healer. "I just need the bruises to fade and I will be good as new."

"And you have been taking all the elixirs she gives you?"

Elske grinned, astounded at his strange manner,

"Yes!" She laughed. "You even saw me drink it."

Loki could sense her skepticism at the situation, and he completely mirrored the sentiment. It was if he had no control over himself, and he hated it. He was usually so careful around others, yet here he was with a girl he had known for two days, desperate for her approval and wellbeing. His reserved and calculated motions were lost as soon as he saw her large, haunted eyes. How desperate he was to protect her from herself, from the demons that lived inside her memories.

His thoughts ate at him, he was scared to leave her, scared that if he looked away she would vanish in a cloud of smoke or run to the next source of death.

And then he thought of how he had found her. A fluke. If he had been a minute later she would have died, he never would have heard that beautiful voice or heard her delicate laugh.

When he was alone he dwelled on the way his heart had stuttered in his chest as he realized that it was a girl in the water, a girl who was not moving, a girl who was probably dead.

How he had torn off his riding jacket and boots, moving frantically to get to the body, because there was a chance that the poor thing was still alive.

He had beat her chest like a madman, pushed his breath down her throat, cursed her and shook her and when she woke up he almost cried with the feelings that spread through him.

Until she asked in a broken voice to be put back in the water and he realized that her intent was to die, and he was not the hero of the piece, but the villain who stole her prize.

He swallowed loudly and turned back to her, hating himself for his own weakness when it came to this girl.

"What is the girl's name?" He asked her, pulling his hand roughly through his hair.

"What girl?"

"The one who stole the pastry," He elaborated. "Do you know her name?"

"Hanna," Elske told him quietly. "Why do you want to know?"

Loki looked again to the dusky shadows beneath her lovely hazel eyes,

"I want to thank her for giving you a good memory."

* * *

He walked closer than she expected him to, and at this proximity Elske tried to quash her dread and focus solely on how tall the beautiful prince was. He towered over her, her forehead barely meeting his shoulder,

"Am I short?" She asked him, truly unsure. "Because there is an impressive height difference here."

Loki's lip lifted slightly in a small smile, not understanding how truly insecure the beauty beside him was.

"Is that seriously what you are concerning yourself with? I am much more worried about your reset leg, or does this not bother you?"

Elske let out a low breath, hating that he evaded her question.

"It barely hurts."

"I just think that you should stay another day with Eir," He told her, looking broody. "What if she missed something?"

"I've had worse."

Loki grimaced, hating the fact that she had been subjected to such violence and abuse,

"Which is exactly why you deserve to feel at ease now," He insisted, stopping and looking down at her with conviction. "If your leg is hurting we can go back to Eir."

"I'm fine, Loki. Really."

He gave her a long, unblinking look before nodding slowly. It made her hair stand on end.

"I trust you," Loki said honestly, "but it is exceedingly difficult for me when I see you limping."

This could not be real. She was nobody. She was nobody, so why was he watching her like she mattered? Like she was somebody?

"What if I danced down the corridor?" Elske asked in her smooth voice, though her eyes flickered with confusion and heartache. "Would that relieve your stress?"

Loki rolled his eyes at the mental image,

"No, you would probably fall and break your spine," He licked his lips. "And then I'd have to drag you all the way back to the healing chambers."

"That's hardly fair," Elske smiled, searching his sculpted face for any malice and finding none. "Couldn't you just magic me back into the bed?"

A mischievous grin lit up Loki's face at the thought, though Elske winced at her poor wording. Why was she always so careless with what she said? No wonder so many people had sought out to break her, no wonder she was so frequently attacked.

Her fault.

"I wouldn't be opposed to the idea," He grinned, teasing her lightly, trying to ease the look of sudden dread that had appeared upon her features. "Though I wonder if it would work, due to your extreme shortness."

Elske stopped walking, uncertain if he was being honest or not. Her doubt soared, tackled hope to the ground, crushing it underfoot.

"Wait, did you mean that?" She asked, feeling her cheeks tinge a light rose with embarrassment, with shame. "Loki."

He turned to face her again; his eyes alight with humor,

"Yes?"

"Am I short?" This was important. She needed to know. It was all her fault, if only she wasn't so small...

"Well," He frowned mockingly. "You definitely aren't tall, if that is what you're asking."

She looked at him with big hazel eyes and he wished badly for her to stop being so heartbreakingly adorable.

"Is it noticeable?"

He did not understand the roughness in her honeyed voice, rolled his stormy eyes at her for a second time, trying to neutralise her stress.

"I was only joking, Elske," He soothed with a warm laugh. "There is nothing wrong with your height."

She held his gaze, trying to determine the truth of his words. She begged silently for him to be honest, to be certain that she was not freakish, not any more alien than she already felt. She stared at him for a time, and Loki wondered what she saw, if she was satisfied, if she was disappointed. She did not answer his questions verbally, but nodded, clouds clearing from her gaze, rain easing and fading into the depths of her eyes.

She made a small sweeping motion with her pearlescent hand, like wispy smoke flowing in the breeze, and they began walking again, slowly.

"I still cannot thank you enough," She told him quietly, avoiding the glances of the few servants passing by. "Are you sure this is all right?"

"I am certain," He told her, compelled to ease any fears or worries she had. But he was nervous himself, wondering if this would be the last time they spoke, he would walk her to her chambers, instruct her of her duties and then become a memory. A shadow in her life that she rarely visited, just a man who showed her pity and nothing more. He swallowed and put himself in line of rejection, "But I was wondering… would you like to meet with me again? I can teach you magic and maybe you could assist me with some spells?"

She was taken aback for a moment, confused as to why he would want to see her again. She frowned, eyebrows drawing together, looking at him as if he were insane.

She was nobody.

Her tongue became lead, shock and bewilderment. He was a prince and she was a street rat.

She was nobody.

Loki had taken her silence and look of perplexity as a negative reply, his shoulders drooped ever so slightly at his dismissal.

"Of course you do not have to-"He started, his chest constricting with embarrassment.

"No!" She said, cocking her head at an angle. "I would like that, to learn magic." Her eyes drilled holes into his. "I am just puzzled as to why you would want that."

Now the prince looked just as confused as she.

"Why wouldn't I?

She was nobody

"Because you are a prince and I am a stray, taken from the darkest alleyways… I am sure that you could find better company anywhere in the palace."

Loki hated this, the rigid formalities that came with his title and took any semblance of normalcy away from his life. He couldn't even talk to Elske without her feeling unworthy because of some ridiculous birthright, the most interesting person he had ever met, and he could lose it all because of their compromising statuses.

"I told you before," He scolded. "I am just Loki."

She looked at the prince, tired and out of her depth and so flustered. So terribly sad. Just days ago she had thrown herself into a lake, determined to never resurface. The everlasting sleep was so alluring, but here was a man who offered her a chance. To live. Properly.

"I am just Elske," She whispered, fingers trembling slightly.

"I like your company just fine, Just Elske." He informed her, feeling frustrated that she doubted her own importance. "You are far more interesting than the people at court, anyway."

She scowled at his compliment, finding it absolutely ridiculous that a prince was giving her such attention.

"It makes me," Elske paused, searching for the right word. "Almost suspicious, though." She admitted to him. "That you would seek out the company of a street rat when you could converse with Asgard's Elite."

Loki swallowed, annoyed, with her and with himself.

"Why can you not accept that I enjoy your companionship?"

"Because it does not make sense," She told him fervently. "And I have been tricked too many times to feel anything but wary of your actions."

Loki would never admit it, but the words she spoke to him then cut him deeply. Was she comparing him to the scum that had battered and molested her? Did she think him a monster like the others?

_All men are beasts, _her mind wailed, begging her to be rational, to remember the pain.

As if she could forget.

"I have saved your life," He defended himself, the girl's rejection leaving a sting on his heart. "Given you a job, a place to live. I can feel your potential, the magic that surrounds you… I want to help you and to know you, not because I am some demonic spirit, but because you need friends as much as I do."

He was staring intently into her hazel eyes and Elske worried that he was looking at her very psyche, gazing upon her damaged soul. She wanted to turn him away, thank him for his help and then never see him again – it would be so much easier that way.

Instead she hung her head and quietly apologized.

"I do not mean to be difficult," She said softly. "I am more grateful than you know, but this kindness… it frightens me."

They stood in silence for a time, stood facing each other with closed expressions. He wanted to comfort her and she had the urge to thank him again, but neither moved a muscle, nor spoke a word.

It would be trying, Loki realized, being her comrade. She was plagued with suspicion and anxiety, and though he knew she wasn't whole, he now saw how broken she truly was. Years of hate and cruelty had worn her down, exposing nerves and pains he could not comprehend. She needed to be embraced warmly, to be cherished and reassured of her worth.

The prince was the first to break the stillness that had fallen around them,

"Suppose you were a princess," He began, tone like soft butter. "From birth, you were told of your importance, how one day, it could be you to rule the realm."

"Loki-" She tried to interrupt, but he shook his head and continued.

"You found life lonely though, you were always separated from others by an invisible barrier and no matter how hard you tried to impress and reach out to them, they never saw you the way you wanted." He ran a hand through this dark hair, feeling too exposed but needing to get this out. "You live your life this way for thousands of years, unchanging. And then, one day while you are trying to forget your feelings, you find a man drowning in a lake. You pull him to safety, but when he awakes he begs you to let him die, and his pleading kills you inside because he is just like you. He falls unconscious and you take him back to your palace, desperate to help him-"

"Loki-" She tried to stop him again, voice grave.

"And you hear his hurt and all the horrible things he has had to live through, but you, the princess, have the chance to help him," Loki's eyes were glinting with emotion, beseeching her to understand. "If you were in that position, would you have acted differently than I did?"

Elske bit her tongue in an attempt to hide her sad disbelief. She had never been spoken to with such heated honesty before; she could see the vulnerability in the set of his lips, and the way he had clawed at his hair.

She was nobody.

She didn't know how to deal with his openness, she had never had to comfort or assure someone before. Never had to deal with the fondness that Loki showed her, but she wanted to, she needed it,

"No."

Relief flickered in his mossy gaze.

"Then stop questioning my motives, stop doubting your own importance," He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes, not wanting to look at her fragile body and angelic face as he spoke. "You matter."

She grimaced at the way her heart seemed to tear open, how his words made her throat thick and chest throb.

He put it into perspective, his words were like a balm she craved, one that she did not know she needed. He turned the tables on her, shoved the facts in her face.

Told her that she was not nobody.

"Just Loki," She said, voice shaking like her hands. "I would be honored to practice magic with you."

Loki opened his eyes with a soft smile.

* * *

Frowning, he folded his long arms across his chest, making it painfully obvious that he disapproved.

"If you keep that look on your face," Elske warned, limping to the small chair in the far corner of her new chambers. "You might just ruin my moment."

Loki huffed, but was secretly pleased with her rebuttal. She was speaking to him, honestly and heatedly.

He hoped she thought him her equal, it was far-fetched, but he wished it all the same.

"It's just that it is a lot smaller than I expected," He moved his gaze to the candles on the walls, "And darker."

"I love it," She whispered, grinning behind her hand. "It's mine."

"Yes," The prince agreed. "And if you would just let me use magic, it could be twice the size with suitable lighting and a nicer colour scheme."

"No."

Muttering under his breath about sentimentality, Loki examined the interior further,

"It's not very spacious," He informed her grimly. "Thor would not even be able to fit in here."

"Oh, who is Thor?" She asked distractedly, stroking the woolen sheets of the single bed in silent awe, admiring the pillows. She was nobody, and she had a room.

She owned something.

"You have never heard of Thor?" Loki inquired, shocked. How was that possible?

She looked up at him, shrugging, intoxicated by her new home.

"Not that I can recall, who is he?"

"He is my brother."

Elske's eyes went wide and she smiled warmly at him. How truly lucky he was.

"Oh, I have always wanted a sibling!" She told him softly, sitting on the narrow bed as she talked. "Again, you have me in a fit of jealousy." She grinned and pushed a lock of long, knotted brown hair from her eyes. "What is he like, your brother? Are you very similar?"

It took Loki a moment to reply because this was strange and it caught him off guard.

Everyone knew of Thor, he was The God of Thunder, Asgard's pride and joy. He was popular, the closest the realm had to a celebrity, and Elske had never even heard of him. Even Midgard dedicated a day to him, kneeled to him. He was cherished in different realms, and Elske had not even heard of him.

Loki looked intently at the porcelain girl before him, eyes alight with deep rooted emotions he preferred to bottle and hide away from others. In that moment Loki finally felt the sun on his cheeks, for once he was not hidden in his brother's large and daunting shadow. The breath in his lungs felt fresh, unmarred by frustration or envy.

It was liberating.

"He is a good man," He managed to say, his body awash with a lightness he had not been exposed to before. "Older than I, but more childish. Ladies adore him," Loki smirked, shaking his head as reminders of his brother's crude behavior flashed through his mind. "He is The God of Thunder and he continuously raises the bar. It is impossible to outshine him."

Elske was still smiling when he met her eyes again, though the tightness in the set of her lips showed her concern.

"I bet you are adored by the ladies also," She said, comforting his ego. "But I had no idea Asgard had two princes!"

Loki chuckled softly,

"Where have you been all your life, under a rock? Thor is all the Aesir talk of."

Elske pulled the pillow onto her lap, grazing her fingers over the soft material,

"You forget I had never heard of Prince Loki, either."

"I know," He explained. "But that is understandable. I thought you would have heard of Thor."

Elske shook her head, wondering sadly if Loki felt inferior to his brother. From the way he spoke, the pained glint in his eyes, it all seemed very plausible. Elske squinted, trying to picture him.

"Has he got black hair too?"

Loki smirked to himself,

"No, he is blonde and built like a bilgesnipe,"

"A bilgesnipe? So your brother has antlers?" She replied, rolling her eyes. "Yes, I can see how that would make the ladies adore him."

Loki laughed loudly, startling her a little by his volume. She grit her teeth and tried to banish her sudden unease at the sound.

He was laughing with amusement, she reminded herself, not twisted hate. Not mocking cruelty.

The smile she offered him was so forced it appeared as if she were baring her teeth.

"I said he was built like a bilgesnipe, not that he looked like one."

Loki had always needed to be needed, he was unknowingly desperate for the love and affections that his brother was showered with. So far all Elske had done was compliment him and offer her attention, but it was so honest, so devastatingly pure, that Loki felt it outshines any caress or medal his brother had ever received. She was enchanting him, this pretty girl with nice manners and a traitorous past. She longed for someone, he knew, just like him, though perhaps she did not realise it yet.

They remained in her chambers for a while, teasing and joking with each other, trying to keep the conversation light. Loki shared stories of Thor and his accomplishments in battle and Elske delved into her own few tales of laughter. But as Elske struggled to call up memories that were positive, conversation moved in other directions.

"Does your family know that you saved me from that lake?" She wondered.

The young prince rubbed his eyes roughly,

"No."

Elske had suspected as much,

"Is there a reason why?"

"There are a lot of reasons for a lot of things."

"That is rather vague," Elske complained, curious to know why he had kept her a secret. She thought he might be ashamed or embarrassed of her, but after the way he had looked into her eyes and assured her that she mattered, it seemed unlikely.

"You will think me childish," Loki sighed, turning his dark green gaze to the floor.

"I highly doubt that," She told him, curious to know what plagued the prince.

He muttered something unintelligible under his breath and Elske frowned, leaning towards him in an attempt to understand.

"Sorry," She apologized softly, unconsciously leaning closer to try and grasp the words. "I didn't quite hear what you said."

Loki let out an exaggerated huff, but decided to not to share his true misgivings.

"My mother will be insistent and never cease to bother me," He lied, looking away.

Elske looked at him, not sure why he felt the need to cover up the truth. His jaw was too clenched, his muscles too tensed for him to be telling her the truth. Did he not know that she had suffered a life of deceit? That she could sense a lie before it even happened?

"Just Loki," She scolded, "you do not tell falsehoods convincingly."

There was a beat of tense silence before Loki grinned hugely at her, shaking his head as he remembered that Elske did not know about him, had no idea that he was the infamous God of Lies.

He bowed deeply, accepting her slander with a small chuckle. How little she knew, how much she had to learn.

* * *

It was five days until Loki saw the petite brunette again.

He had endured a difficult meeting with his father and brother, listening with a heavy heart as Odin proclaimed that Thor would be his true heir, smiling fondly at his favorite son, Asgard's Golden Prince.

"Loki," His father said, the deep baritone of his voice vibrating through the room. "You may leave now. I wish to speak to Thor about matters of court."

The discounted son stood stiffly, his face impassive save for his eyes, steely and glistening with bottled envy, repressed anger that he hid, tucked away behind his ribs. Of course this would happen, of course The AllFather would turn him away, of course he would be shoved into the shadows, forgotten.

Loki let his jealousy eat at him.

He hadn't even wanted the throne, but knowing that he was never even considered, that it was never in his reach burned him like no fire ever could.

He had always tried so hard to impress his father, excelling in all his studies, mastering magic, hunting fluidly, becoming a stealthy warrior… and yet he was always regarded with a dull, unimpressed stare and a hard frown. Odin always sought out Thor and left Loki in the dark, unaware of how much it twisted his youngest son's insides to be so easily disregarded.

His bow was brief and curt, though Odin and Thor did not even bother to acknowledge it, too busy talking to notice his exit. Loki stalked through the corridors, and though his expression was neutral, as though he had just been planning a feast or discussing the weather, the depths of his greens eyes glistened with scarlet, his pale skin flashed a light blue.

He threw open the door to his chambers, startling Elske, who had been making his bed and cleaning his room within an inch of its life.

"Oh!" She gasped at his sudden entrance, raising a hand to her throat in shock. "Loki, you scared me."

In his hurt and anger, his tone became bitterly sarcastic,

"My sincere apologies."

Elske frowned, fearful that she had somehow upset or offended him.

"I, um, I am sorry for intruding," She told him, evidently nervous. "I will take my leave now, My Prince."

And then she curtseyed.

He had gone from being Just Loki to Prince Loki and it made his hurt double. They were supposed equals.

He felt as though he was ruining everything.

"No," Loki sighed, dragging a harsh hand through his raven locks. Elske didn't deserve his temper, "Stay, please? Forgive me for being so curt before, I have had a trying day."

He watched in tired fascination as she nodded, hazel eyes trained on his movements. Her attention solely on him.

"Of course," She whispered, clasping her pale hands together. "You need not apologize to me."

He let out a long breath,

"What are you doing in here?" He wondered, "When we looked over your schedule last week you had kitchen duty."

The young girl smirked,

"One of the other servants was meant to tidy your chambers, but she begged and begged to switch with me."

"She enjoys cooking?"

"No," Elske laughed lightly, "She was terrified that you had put a spell upon your room."

Loki couldn't help but smile,

"She thought I would turn her into a rat, I assume," He had heard the servant's gossip, telling false but humorous stories of his mischief. He encouraged them, wanting people to fear him, to be wary of ever crossing him.

"Or a bilgesnipe," Elske offered, making the prince roll his eyes, shaking his head.

"So, what do you think of my chambers?"

Elske let out a short, incredulous laugh, looking at the massive and beautifully furnished space around her.

"I can understand now why you were not impressed with my own."

Loki smiled, pleased that she liked it, but his eyes were still hard, his muscles tense. Banter could only distract him from his pain for so long.

His long legs carried him over to the left side of his bed, just a few paces from the marble wall.

"Would you like to see the study?" He asked, knowing he would be able to think better in there.

"What study?" Elske asked. She had just cleaned his entire room and there was nothing even remotely like a workplace in there. Loki made a strange gesture with his hand and the wall beside him moved, creating a narrow doorway.

That definitely had not been there before.

The prince stood in the doorway, watching her. She was the first brunette Aesir he had seen, he had always thought himself the only one with dark hair, and as a child it had plagued him. He had tried so desperately to make friends, never understanding why people looked down upon him and up to Thor. He had used a charming spell on himself once, turning his hair blonde in an attempt to fit in. He was not met with kindness, only scorn as he was accused of copying his brother, of being petty and jealous. He wondered if she had faced the same problems as he had.

He opened his arms, half submerged into the secret pathway already,

"This one."

She let out a surprised laugh at his trick, and he nodded in her direction, signaling for her to enter. She took a hesitant step forward, trying to peer into the gloom that resided down the path Loki had created,

"Is it safe?"

"I promise."

Elske did not sense a lie and gave the prince a hesitant smile, walking slowly past him and into the darkness. She heard him step into the entry way behind her and cover up the passage again.

"Loki?" Her voice quavered in panic as the black washed over her, blinding. "Is there no light?" She asked, hating how afraid she was.

Loki snapped his long, pale fingers and candles all over the corridor ignited, illuminating a walkway that soon opened up into a spacious and striking chamber.

Her sigh of relief was louder than she intended, relief flushing through her system, knowing that he was not playing twisted games with her.

Her gaze danced around the room, studying all the furniture and items quickly, fascinated at the warm and lovely place. There was an enormous bookshelf, filled to the brim with works on magic, history, Asgard and the other eight realms. There was an impressive teak desk, covered with parchment and dozens of quills, scattered with bottles upon bottles of dark green ink. Elske's eyes scanned the mess of letters and spells and saw a beautiful sketch tucked under a stray envelope.

Delicately she lifted the drawing, looking at the woman in the picture with a warm smile.

"That's my mother," He admitted from behind her, looking away toward the bookshelf. His tone had lost some of the coldness, the affection he felt for her seeping through. "She taught me everything I know about magic."

Elske tentatively brushed her fingertips over the woman's face,

"She's stunning," She whispered, taking in the woman's flowing hair, the lovely angles of her face.

Tears gathered, unbidden, like liquid mercury in Elske's hazel eyes. Her throat swelled as she longed for the tenderness of a mother's love, the one she had seen so many times, but never experienced.

Loki turned to her, exhaling silently when he noticed her anguish. He did not especially like dwelling on the possibility that Elske would never recover, was not fond of thinking that she may always remain so sad, so heartbreakingly broken.

"We could start today, if you would like?" He asked, skillfully hiding his own troubles, as well as trying to drag her from her own.

Elske was lost in the beautiful sketch, her train of thought fractured,

"Start what?" Her honey voice was barely audible.

"Magic."

She blinked, looking away from the queen and turned to her comrade, offering him an apologetic shrug as she set the parchment down,

"I would love to," Elske told him, attempting to banish the demons that lurked in her mind and focus on the prince's reserved attitude instead. "But first I think we should speak of what bothers you."

The prince frowned, feeling petty suddenly.

"It is nothing of consequence."

"You are a poor liar," She muttered, pursing her lips at him.

Loki snorted,

"Is that so?" He asked, "For I have often heard the opposite."

She crossed her twig-like arms and raised a dark brow at him,

"You cannot give me a long speech about how much my problems matter, and then disregard your own."

"No?" He tested.

"No."

Loki sighed, rubbing his forehead wearily. He never spoke of his troubles, no one ever bothered to look hard enough, to ask if he was all right.

"It is about Thor," He sighed, fists clenched at his sides as emotion leaked from where he had banished it.

"The bilgesnipe?"

"Yes."

"And what of him?" She prompted, concerned for the prince.

"My whole life I had thought perhaps I could be…" Loki looked down, his sentence losing all power. "My brother is to be king."

Elske bit her lip, feeling out of her depth. How do you comfort a person, a prince who has been taught all his life that he could be king, when the very reason for their years of training is snatched from them?

"Of Asgard?"

"Yes."

"And you do not approve?" She wondered, not liking how lost he appeared.

"I-" The prince stopped, face darkening. Thor was brash and arrogant, a boy in a man's body, eager for glory and war.

Did Loki disapprove? No. Yes. Possibly. "I only wish that my father would have waited, my coming of age is mere months he would just consider me, just wait..."

Elske nodded, nervous of his heated tone.

"It does not seem fair, the Allfather judging you when you are on the edge of adolescence, just short of being a man."

Loki grinned bitterly and it sent a jolt of fear down the young girl's spine,

"No, it is not fair. But he was always going to choose Thor, no matter my age or intellect."

"Why?"

He let out a long breath, letting his shoulder's sag with his disappointment and simmering resentment.

"Thor is the favorite. My father never hid his preference, though I frequently tried to ignore it… I suppose deep down, I always knew Thor would be the one to take the throne. I just wish my father would have given me a chance."

Their gazes locked, and Elske was surprised at the pain she saw in Loki's beautiful face.

"Maybe he will change his mind-"

"His mind has been made since the day Thor was born," He interrupted her, frustrated at the situation. "I just want to make him proud of me, but no matter what I do, nor how hard I try… I am nothing but a blemish in my brother's comparison," Loki swallowed and pulled at his hair in agitation.

"Then your father is a blind man," Elske told him, her voice showing no lie or doubt. "For I see you for who you are, and I think that you would make a perfect king."

He felt his chest tighten at the girl's honesty, and again he wished that he could hug the lovely maiden, but instead bowed his head in thanks, hiding the tears of built frustration.

"He is only half blind," Loki reminded her, voice slightly thick. She smiled,

"Yes, of course."

"Would you still like to learn magic?" He asked her, warring with these foreign emotions that Elske had wrought so fiercely upon him. Now was not the time to become sentimental.

"Absolutely."

"Then let us move over here," He said, motioning her to follow him to the other side of the room, though still troubled from her kind words.

"Alright," She whispered, showing a small amount of trust.

"Now," he said, folding his arms carefully behind his back. "Do you see the torch in front of us?"

"Yes."

"Good. I need you to concentrate on the candle," he told her. "Take in its shape and form, the light and heat it provides, the type of wax it is made of- anything."

Elske did as she was told, nodding when she felt she had familiarized herself enough.

"Okay," she told him.

"Now picture the candle being snuffed out. Focus on that and that alone."

The small brunette closed her eyes and imagined the flame extinguishing, her very mind seemed to extend and wrap around the room and after a moment she heard the prince laugh. She opened her hazel eyes again at the sound, but was bathed in darkness,

"Loki?" Her voice was high with dread, but the prince laughed again,

"You blew out all of the candles," he told her incredulously, his tone filled with disbelieving awe. "Every single one."

Despite her achievement, all she could feel as the blackness surrounded her was panic,

"I didn't mean to," Elske cried. "Please light them again!"

"It's fine," He soothed, once again igniting all the candles. "You see? Perfectly safe."

"Sure," She croaked, still shaken.

"Are you certain that you have never practiced magic before?"

"Never on purpose."

Loki smirked, green eyes twinkling in the gloom,trying desperately to make her smile once more,

"I told you that you had potential."

"What now?" She asked, her thin face flushed, but not as scared as moments before. She let out a long breath and smiled weakly to let him know she was okay.

The prince shook his head in bewilderment that he had finally found someone to share his passion for magic with, someone he found comfort and light in, and offered her a mischievous wink.

"You do it again."

* * *

"I need to cut my hair."

Loki had been lounging in his secret study, waiting for Elske to arrive for their second magic lesson when he heard her voice, calling to his senses like a siren. He looked up at her with wide, emerald eyes, impressed that she had managed to open the door with the miniscule amount of magic she had learnt. She was obviously powerful, more than Loki had ever seen in a sorceress before, and it both enchanted and excited him.

"Pardon?"

"I need to cut my hair," Elske repeated, grabbing a fistful of her long locks and frowning in disgust. "It's matted and horrible."

Loki didn't think it was matted, and it certainly wasn't horrible.

"You are far too hard on yourself."

"I am not being difficult," She defended, "I am being honest. And right now, I still look like the pathetic homeless girl I was but a fortnight ago."

Loki looked at her and saw her vulnerability. It was not the appearance of her hair that bothered her, but the fact that it was a reminder of how she had to live, in the cold, with no kindness or comfort. Changing her hair would be freeing, the prince thought, as if cutting the very chains that weighed her down.

"Then we shall style it in anyway you desire," He guaranteed her. "Though I may not be the best hair dresser in Asgard."

She offered him a look that made him warm inside,

"Loki, I could not care less, just as long as this mess on my head is gone."

He swallowed, still shocked at how tender his name sounded coming from her petal lips.

"As you wish."

The act of cutting Elske's hair was the most intimate thing Loki had ever experienced; he let his fingers brush over her bare neck, marveling at her warmth. He felt her tense under his touch, and she trembled as the blade neared her body, but she had enough faith in him to stay as still as she could, and soon her chestnut locks were dropping to the floor, not unlike the leaves that float down from their branches in the months of autumn. The prince tried to make it even, not wanting to disappoint her, and spent more time than he anticipated trying to do his best work. When he was satisfied he put down the knife and created a small mirror with the flick of his wrist.

"Clever," Elske praised, amused by his casual magic.

"Thank you," he replied, offering her the glass gently. "What do you think?"

Hazel eyes peered into the reflective surface, and the biggest grin graced her lips when she saw how different she looked,

"You, my prince, do not give yourself enough credit."

Elske beamed at him and tried to convey her appreciation, but seeing her look happy was all Loki needed, and he felt his rejected heart stutter and relish in the warmth of her smile.

* * *

**Reviews are appreciated, thanks for reading :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Just wanted to say a big thank you to all those who were lovely ****enough to leave a review (you are too kind!) ****Sorry for the long interval between updates, but I'm quite rubbish at getting things done. Oops.**

**Hope you enjoy anyway :)**

* * *

It had become a twisted ritual of sorts, each morning she would awake in her chamber, exhausted from the nightmares that kept her from sleeping for more than an hour or two each eve. She would walk into the small washroom and disrobe, glaring with unrelenting disgust at the reflection she saw in the full-length mirror.

Hardly a day passed where Elske's tears were not flowing, her sharp cheeks covered in blotches from the hours of crying. She watched through bleary eyes as her scars surfaced from under her clothing, the places she had been hurt and violated carved into her like a demented map.

How she loathed her body.

Elske glowered at the marred skin, her stomach churning as each mark brought horrid memories of blood and screaming.

She roughly wiped her eyes, leaving them red-rimmed and bloodshot, a sad display of her weakness, like a tribute to her pathetic and useless attempts.

She splashed her face with icy water, pretending she was once more in that scenic lake, arms open and calling for death. How easy it could have been, if that gorgeous prince had not come to save her, how free she would be.

Elske dried her face with one of the soft towels, trying to get rid of the sadness that had leaked into her expression, working to smooth the grief from her rosebud lips and scape it from her forehead.

The peasant girl let out a loud, shuddering sigh and turned to the hot shower, seeking comfort in the cascading water, searching for anything to duplicate the pleasant feelings she only ever experienced when in the presence of Loki.

The water could not give her half of the warmth that the prince's smile offered, and Elske worried quietly for her sanity.

She made it to the dining halls early, satisfied to find that her reset leg no longer caused her pain, and was relieved to find she was one of the first to arrive. The less people, the less painful.

She took her bread and milk, still amazed that the palace staff were provided with complimentary breakfast and dinner. Mere weeks ago she would have killed for any form of scrap, and here she was, eating warm, fresh food.

She felt the urge to cry again and cursed her weak sentiments. Since she had arrived at the palace her emotions had been erratic, one moment she was a rueful and depressing excuse for a maiden, the next she was overcome with her good luck and fortune, unable to keep the excited grin from her face.

She seriously had to control herself better.

The chair across from her scraped loudly as someone sat down, making Elske jump and nearly spill her drink everywhere in surprise.

"Morning," The man smiled, picking up his breakfast, a piece of bread triple the mass of Elske's meal, and taking a sizable bite out of it.

"Morning," Elske replied softly, looking at the red-haired man in fascination as he devoured the sustenance before him, getting large crumbs stuck in his fiery beard as he chewed loudly.

"This is the first time we have met," the man told her through a mouthful of food. "Are you new to the palace?"

With hazel eyes wide and curious, the peasant nodded.

"I have worked here for just over a week now," She smiled slightly as she said this, her mind shifting to thoughts of Loki. "It is truly lovely here, is it not?"

The large man nodded, breathing heavily through his nose as he scarfed down the loaf.

"Yes," came his muffled reply, sounding more like a moan than anything else.

"Are you a servant here, also?" Elske inquired, picking a piece off of her bread and delicately placing it in her mouth, savoring the flavor. The rotund man laughed loudly, throwing his large head back and spraying the poor girl with saliva as he did so.

"I am wounded!" He jested, grinning hugely. "I am no lowly servant! I am Volstagg the Voluminous of the Warriors Three, famous for my brilliant axe wielding and unmatched appetite."

Elske bowed her head,

"I apologize," she told him softly. "I meant no offense… it seems I am not up to par with Asgard's current events, though I am sure I will be hearing a lot of you the longer I reside within the castle."

"But of course!" He yelled, turning the heads of the handful of servants in the dining hall. "I will make sure of it!"

Elske listened politely, quite intrigued by his storytelling and exaggerated speech. She caught him looking at her meal from time to time as he spoke, and completely distracted from her hunger, Elske offered the bread to him.

"Kindness in its true form!" He cheered, smiling at her fondly behind his curtain of a beard. "I will sing your praises all day for this, my girl!"

Elske smirked, genuinely fascinated by the odd man's behavior,

"There is no need for that," She assured him kindly. "As long as you are in good spirits, I am satisfied."

Volstagg looked at the pretty girl with unveiled appreciation,

"Your name, my girl?"

"Elske," she told him, standing with great elegance.

"Elske who?" He coaxed, stuffing the last of the sustenance into his impressive mouth.

"Elske who is late for her duties," She laughed lightly, turning away with a polite curtsey and wave of her hand, waltzing to Prince Loki's chambers to start her work for the day.

She was disappointed, but not surprised when she arrived and Loki was absent, she knew he had obligations as a prince that needed to be attended to. Being a member of the royal family was a full time job, after all.

She made her way to his bed; letting out a giggle of delight when she noticed a note perched on one of his pillows, her name scribed on the front in green ink. She unfolded the parchment and eagerly read the sophisticated lettering that was addressed to her,

_Elske,_

_If you are able and willing, meet me in the old courtyard at sunset. Let us practice magic under the stars, with moonlight on our backs. I might have a surprise for you as well,_

_Your friend,_

_Loki_

Elske rolled her eyes at her own excitement, knowing full well that this would keep her curious and distracted all day. She wondered what he had planned, worried about being seen with him after dusk, fretted over what his surprise was, and then tried to remember where the old courtyard was. Had she even been there yet? The palace was so large, with winding corridors and numerous gardens that Elske had been wary to explore, convinced she would become lost for the next century or so.

She read the note again.

And then she read it a third time, squinting in confusion, as the words seemed to melt off the page, being replaced instead with a small drawing.

"What in the name of Odin?" Elske whispered, peering at the illustration with questioning eyes. She frowned slightly, and then, upon realizing what he had done, allowed her lips to curve upwards in good humor.

The beautiful prince had made her a map, with delicate lines and arrows leading towards the old courtyard. At the bottom, in spidery letters, he wrote,

_In case you lose your way, my dear._

Elske felt a pang in her chest, knowing that he had thought of her poor sense of direction. The fact that the prince thought of her at all made her heart wring and swell in a way she did not recognize, but welcomed all the same. There were no doubts that she would meet with Loki, Elske was determined to make her savior happy, and if, for some unusual reason, her company achieved that feat, she would gladly give her life to him.

And this newfound devotion worried her deeply.

* * *

"Eir."

"My Prince."

He looked at her, green eyes searching.

"She seems happy," Loki told her. "Elske, I mean."

"She has a long way to go," The healer replied, "And she is most likely terrified, I know I would be, in her place."

Loki nodded, swallowing.

"She has not been eating," He confided, "I have checked on her, under guise, whilst she was in the dining halls. She throws the food away each time, barely eating a mouthful."

Eir nodded, not surprised at this development.

"I doubt she is enjoying anything here." She said, watching the prince with a secret admiration. Few would show as much kindness as he, fewer still would let the act go unrecognized. He had made her swear not to tell anyone of his involvement with Elske, distancing himself from any praise.

"And why is that?" He sighed, lifting his hand and rubbing his jaw.

"The fear will be killing her," Eir told him, busying herself with folding bandages. "She is most likely scared that you will disown her, and she will return to the cruelty from which she came."

"No," The prince shook his head. "I have assured her that she is welcome here."

"And she has lived a life of deceit and pain. She cannot trust you, it is never that easy with her kind."

Loki looked at Eir, suddenly annoyed.

"Her kind?" He questioned, voice hard and biting. "And what do you mean by that?"

"She is damaged, My Prince. You must not forget that."

Loki glared at Eir, feeling his anger spike. Elske was not some object that could be cast-off, she was strong and lovely and so, so beautiful. Just thinking of her kind, sad smile twisted his heart deep within his chest.

"Do not speak of her in such a way," Loki warned her, suddenly protective of the girl from the lake.

"I speak truthfully, My Prince," Eir defended, rolling her eyes internally as she reached for another bandage to fold. "She will not want to experience the comforts of this palace if she thinks she will lose them."

Loki considered this, but remained unimpressed by her phrasing.

"She has told me before that this seems too good to be true."

"Then you must make it your first priority to assure her otherwise, or she will be unable to heal, both physically and mentally."

Loki shut his eyes tightly and felt a coldness run down his spine. He had not expected Elske to be so resistant to comfort and kindness, to twist words and actions around so that every intention was dangerous and threatening. Again he wished that he had no title to his name, that his equality with the peasant girl was not doubtable.

"I just wish she could be happy."  
"She will be," Eir promised him. "She will learn."

* * *

To say Loki was glad to see Elske was a terrible understatement, and though he did not care to dwell on his feelings, he was aware that he was becoming ridiculously attached to the girl. But, in all honesty, Loki could not find it within himself to be bothered by that fact.

"Hi."

Loki grinned, happy to see his new companion.

"Hello," he replied. "I trust you found your way here without too much trouble?"

"The map helped," she nodded, stepping forward slightly. "Thank you."

"It was no trouble," Loki confessed, moving away from her and towards the opposite side of the courtyard. He gestured for her to follow him and she did without a second thought,

"How was your day?" She inquired in her lovely silken voice.

"Interesting," the prince lilted, pushing aside a large branch to reveal a secluded and hidden corner at the back of the square.

"You know a lot of secret places," Elske noted, "First the hidden study, and now this."

Loki laughed,

"I enjoy the privacy that seclusion offers," He confided, turning around to face her again. "It's peaceful."

She frowned, not understanding his logic,

"If you like solitude, why share these places with me?"

He squinted, turning his head up to the stars that shone above him, admiring their distant beauty.

"We are both lonely, I think," Loki said, still admiring the constellations in the sky. "We could be private together."

She smiled sadly; finding it upsetting that the prince was so detached from those around him. Maybe they were more comparable than she would like to admit, despite their differences of birth and wealth; they both had empty cavities deep inside, hollow spaces that cast dark shadows upon their souls.

"I would enjoy that," Elske confided, turning her gaze to mirror his. "I love the stars," she informed him. "They never change, even in the light of day and when the skies are storming, the stars remain."

He made no sign that he had heard her, but moved fluidly towards the marble fountain that sat in the middle of the hidden area. Under the moon the water looked like liquid silver, and the tall prince leaned forward, fingers dancing over its surface.

"After an unpleasant meeting with the king, I ventured to the training arena," He worked the water as he spoke, pulling and twisting it into the shape of a crown. Green flashed to hazel as he met her stare and he quickly let the water fall back into the fountain, the illusion disregarded. "One of my brother's friends was there, Volstagg."

Elske dropped her head into her hands, groaning with disbelief.

"You know Volstagg?" She complained with a light laugh. "Oh, I cannot believe this."

Loki looked upon the girl with fond interest,

"Yes, I know him… and apparently he knows you?"

"He sat with me during breakfast," She sighed, approaching the large fountain to stand next to him, brushing her fingers gently over the cool, smooth surface like he had moments before. "He told me tales of battle and victory, and in the end I gave him my bread."

Loki crossed his arms and sucked his teeth, unsure how to reason with her. Elske had to learn to eat, but he sensed that in his passion he would lose his temper and scare her. How do you scold the one person you wish to impress?

"You're still healing, Elske." Loki began, calm and clear. "I care not what you say, you need to rest and eat properly. Volstagg would survive without your bread."  
She grinned widely at him,

"Are you concerned about me?" She teased, dipping her fingers into the crisp water and then flicking droplets at the prince.

"Yes," He urged, peeved that she was not taking the situation seriously. "You are underweight, you need sustenance, and you will not receive it if you give away your meals."

Her smile faltered slightly at the hardness in his voice,

"I only wished to be kind."

"I think that it goes deeper than that," the prince argued, rubbing his fingertips over his lips as he recalled his conversation with the healer. "I think you are afraid."

Elske felt her chest constrict,

"And I think you are mistaken."

Loki shook his head, anger rising again. Why couldn't she just listen? Why was she being so insufferable?

"I did not drag you from that lake so that you could sabotage your own recovery!" He growled, clenching his fists. "You need to sleep, you need to eat, and you need to grow up."

She glared at him, wounded by his harsh words.

"Is this the surprise you spoke of?" She hissed bitterly, "because I love it, I love being yelled at, Loki. Truly."

"I would not have to raise my voice if you would just take care of yourself!"

Elske felt as if she had been slapped,

"Take care of myself?" She whispered, eyes wide and outraged. "I am the one who survived centuries in the cold, fought through hunger and thirst, slept in the most vile alleyways in all the realm, and you chide me on how I take care of myself?"

The prince closed his eyes in acute frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose,

"You may have soldiered through those hardships, but that does not change the fact that you tried to take your own life, Elske. You cannot stay on this path."  
Tears brimmed in her eyes and for a moment she hated him,

"I am trying," She said thickly. "But I am out of my depth."

The prince exhaled, loathing himself for making the beautiful girl sad, but unable to stop the rage he felt at her dismissive attitude towards her own health. He wanted so badly to shake sense into her… and then hug and assure her through affection that she was safe in the palace.

Instead, he folded his long arms behind his back,

"I apologize for shouting," The prince murmured, wincing at how poorly he handled the situation. "But… my anger was out of concern, you see. I cannot be watching over you all of the time, and I worry that you are giving up."

"I am trying," She repeated, softly this time.

"Try harder."

She smirked falsely to hide her inner turmoil and raised her hazel gaze to meet his,

"You princes are so demanding," She tried to make the situation light again, but he remained serious.

"Promise me," Loki demanded, not taking any nonsense.

"Fine," She muttered, half wanting to cry at his caring insistence, but also tempted to stick out her tongue. "I swear to be on my best behavior."

He studied her warily, noting the tightness of her expression. She had provided him with what he wanted; her word that she would take better care of herself… and now all he craved was for the conflict in her eyes to be soothed.

"Do you still want to practice magic?"

She pursed her lips, not really wanting to continue, but wary to oppose the wishes of the unamused man in front of her.

"Sure."

He raised a skeptical brow,

"You don't have to," He told her, the malice and hard edge that was previously in his voice disappearing, being replaced with a tired but comforting lilt.

"I enjoy your lessons," She told him honestly. "And I'm still waiting for my surprise, so…"

Loki allowed himself a small smile at that, finding her so unusual,

"After you learn how to manipulate water, you may have your treat."

She pulled a face,

"Why do I need to know how to move water?"

Loki shrugged,

"Because I say so."

Elske raised her brow at him, expecting a better answer than that.

"Fair enough, Odinson," She sighed, raising her face to the sky to feel the cool air. Her recently cut hair blew about her face, and in the moonlight, with a soft sadness about her, Loki though he had never seen anyone so lovely. He admired her from where he stood quietly, almost scared to make a noise, worried that any sudden sound could startle her and she would disappear forever. He did not know why Elske appealed to him so much, perhaps it was her wide-eyed innocence despite the vile tragedies she had endured, or the way she seemed to warm his cold heart with just a smile. He was loathe to admit his strange fascination of the brunette beauty, how he desperately wished she would let him in. Sensing his gaze, she tinged a light pink, though her blush remained hidden in the darkness,

"Are you staring at me?"

He cleared his throat, and frowned,

"No," He lied softly. "Just waiting to teach you the wonders of magic."  
Her hands, pale and omniscient in the shine of the moon, danced though the air as she mimicked his delicate movements from before.

"I am picturing the water," Elske told him, voice like lace. "I can nearly feel it, but something is amiss."

"Lean more towards the fountain," He instructed smoothly. "Really try to concentrate on the movement."

She exhaled, eyes closed, and focused on the crisp liquid beneath her fingers. Willing it to rise and dance like a charmed snake, Elske breathed deeply and tried to ignore the God beside her, how he frustrated and fascinated her. Her concentration was faulty, for she could hear Loki humming softly, the rustle of his clothing as he moved, the quiet sound of him swallowing. The water rose marginally, but when the prince laughed with pride, a sound of harp-like beauty, Elske shuddered and the liquid fell back into the fountain.

"Sorry," She mumbled, clearing her throat as her cheeks shaded dusty red.

"Do not be sorry," He comforted her, "That was excellent. Water is possibly the hardest element to master, it took me weeks to accomplish as much as a ripple."

Elske didn't know if she believed him, but took his reassuring words in anyway, wrapping them in a bow and saving them in her heart.

"Should I try again?"

The prince looked at her, green eyes dark in the poorly lit courtyard.

"Would you like to try again? I promise not to shout this time."

"People will wonder what we are doing out here," She reminded him, her cool, slender fingers brushing a stray lock of chocolate hair from her face. "It's quite late."

"I did not tell anyone we are out here," Loki sighed, staring at the shadowy ground, wishful for additional time with the lovely creature before him.

"I don't believe you have told anyone about me at all," She laughed, a sad note that fluttered across the night like a solitary butterfly.

"I do not wish to," He admitted, still studying the cobblestones, his fiercely protective glance lost on the frigid flooring. "It will only complicate matters."

"I know."

"Then let us forget such things," He ordered. "No need to dwell on anything other than things of merriment."

"Like magic."

"Like magic," He agreed.

"And surprises," She hinted, and then held out a dainty hand expectantly.

"Definitely surprises," Loki laughed, glad to see Elske teasing and relaxed. "Close your eyes."

She raised a neat brow at him in curiosity, but complied nonetheless. Her palm faced upwards as she waited for her prize to magically appear in her grasp, but instead Loki gently took her hand in his, squeezing it slightly. She was tempted to open her eyes, but didn't, curious as to what the prince was doing.

"Loki," She began, inquisitive.

"Oh, hush," He instructed, his breath fanning over her face.

He removed his grasp on her, and it was replaced with a light weight, less than that of even an apple, and Elske pouted in her interest.

"Can I open my eyes yet?" She wondered, wanting to see what he had given her.

"Hm," He baited with a smirk. "I am unsure…"

"Loki," Elske whined playfully, "Please?"

His heart stuttered momentarily as he realized how close he had gotten, how he had drastically increased their proximity without Elske even noticing. He stood up straight and pulled himself back, angry at the fog that clouded his mind whenever he was around his favorite servant. He smiled tightly, resisting the urge to pull her close and not let go, and let out a long sigh.

"Go ahead."

Elske's hazel vision shot straight down to her palm, unaware of the tension Loki was battling with. She looked with amazement at the small pastry that was sat in her hand, the same one from her fondest memory; the one Hanna had stolen all those years ago.

"How did you find this?" She whispered, ignoring the silly feeling welling up inside her chest. It was only a cake, but it symbolized the happier times, and the thought behind it made her feel warm. The prince had obviously gone out of his way to get this, and it startled her at how thoughtful the God truly was.

"I found your friend Hanna," He told her, trying to gauge Elske's reaction. "Offered her a place here among the servants."

She broke into a huge smile and looked up at him with watery eyes,

"You are so kind and good," She said sincerely, her arms burning to hug him. "To me and to my friend. What did she say?"

Loki felt uncomfortable under her praise, as it was so genuinely spoken. Thor was usually the one who received compliments and applause, leaving Loki hidden away from the light, drowning in looks of distaste. His mother was perhaps the only exception, but the young prince knew she felt inclined to soothe his tattered ego, that lay shredded after every outing and event he ever participated in, his own good qualities disregarded in favor of his older, golden brother.

Why did this girl see him in ways that no one else could?

"She refused. She is courting some nobleman or another, and is unwilling to change any aspect of her life at the present."

Elske's jaw dropped, and Loki found it adorable.

He kicked himself internally.

"What?" She gasped, strong delight molding her features. "Hanna has met good fortune, too?"

"It appears that way, yes."

She nodded eagerly, pleased hugely with this development. Hanna deserved happiness, and the fact that her life was no longer the painful existence that they endured together soothed something deep in Elske's soul.

"I am so happy," She lilted. "Thank you."

Loki smiled and shook his head fondly.

"You need not thank me; I didn't cause her cheerfulness, I just got you a pastry."

"No matter," She waved away his comment. "You are a great omen, Loki Odinson. You have saved me, and offered kindness to a slum girl you do not even know… you have a pure heart."

The prince felt his insides twist and looked away from her searching hazel stare. He did not feel like a hero, and deep within himself, he felt pieces breaking.

"Try the pastry," He said awkwardly, needing to change the topic. "I want to make sure I got the right one."

Elske moved her lips towards the cake and then paused,

"You didn't steal this, did you?"

He rolled his eyes.

"No, Elske."

She squinted at him suspiciously, before grinning and taking a huge bite.

"How is it?" He wondered, his heart still straining from her previous admiration.

"Loki," She hummed, "I care not what you say, you are my hero."

* * *

It was a while later that they went back into the palace, Loki escorting Elske to her room out of courtesy, though he was quiet and deep in thought. She stole glances at him every few seconds, watching the emotions flash strangely over his face as he struggled against whatever demons he kept within himself.

"Are you alright?" She had asked quietly, confused as to where their lighthearted banter of before had vanished to. He did not reply verbally, but gave her a brisk, if not curt, nod, before offering her a tight smile.

They walked slowly through the servant's quarters, silence falling heavily around them. The doors in this part of the palace were not as glossy or grand as those in the main sector, but they were beautiful all the same. Dark, lustrous ebony was carved with intricate and unique patterns, traditional Aesir designs littering the wood. Elske prized all aspects of her new home with great care, wasting hours on studying the widows and the shower, intrigued and appreciative for every inch of shelter. Loki seemed to find these things dull and of little consequence, but to her, they were more fascinating than any artwork.

They arrived at her room, and though they both remained mute, a shared look of understanding graced their faces. They waved slightly as a sign of adieu, and in mere seconds, Elske was alone in her little room again.

She walked into her bathroom and washed her face, the warm water divine against her skin. She washed her hands and changed into a nightgown, one provided to her by the palace, yet another thoughtful gesture they had shown to her. The soft material felt like a lovely caress and the servant smiled, feeling content. She was unbelievably happy for Hanna, for the idea of her companion in love and finally out of the dangerous streets, away from grimy alleyways and intoxicated men.

She smiled slightly. Maybe one day she could find true happiness, be relieved of the problems that weighed her down and consumed her. She could live, truly live, without hesitation, regret or fear, without dread for the future or the thoughts of others.

Elske hoped that one day she would be allowed to be herself, to discover who she really is, and maybe, if the Gods made it so, Loki could be at her side, helping her on her journey.

Elske sighed heavily. No matter how hard she tried, her favorite prince always managed to worm himself back into her musings, he tangled himself up in her mind, like a fly in the web of a spider, and no matter how she tried to dispel him, his presence lingered.

She exhaled again, wearily this time, and entered back into her chamber, bare feet dragging across the smooth floor. She felt the heaviness in her muscles and brain from practicing magic and crawled into the cozy bed without complaint, in need of a long and proper rest.

She pulled the covers, thick yet silky, over her petite frame and closed her tired eyes, letting her thoughts drift and wander. Naturally, they returned to the subject of Loki, but Elske could not find the strength to mind as she yawned delicately, surrendering to sleep.

She prayed that tonight would be different form the others. She wished desperately that she would find peace within her dreams and not have to face her violent memories and horrific flashbacks that haunted her whenever she closed her eyes. She tried so hard to keep her mind on pleasant things, on the bright colours of the palace, the smiling faces and the majestic beauty, but in the end her brain took her back to her old life and she was wracked with awful nightmares.

And despite her desperate need for rest, like the nights before, Elske barely slept a wink.


End file.
